


Winter Kisses

by Livvy Moore (Tauria)



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Kissing, POV Third Person, Present Tense, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 15:55:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14937359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tauria/pseuds/Livvy%20Moore
Summary: Charlotte finally works up the courage to tell Irene how she feels.





	Winter Kisses

Snow falls in graceful swirls. Charlotte watches, absentmindedly fingering the button on her white coat. She tucks her chin into the matching scarf, and huffs a breath, which wafts before her like smoke.

It’s such a beautiful night, despite the lack of stars. The snow blankets the ground, piling up on the sides of the street, and sparkling under the flickering streetlights. It’s cold, and she’s sure the tip of her nose is red, but she doesn’t mind.

Snow and stars are two of her favorite things. If only she could have them both…

The rumble of an engine snaps her from her mind, and she turns her gaze to the streets. A motorcycle speeds around the corner, its single headlight forcing her to shield her eyes. The cycle parks, and the woman straddling it removes her helmet with a toss of a dark braid. She attaches it to the handle, and slips off it in a confident move, the pants she was wearing tightening further around her butt and thighs.

It’s a nice view.

Irene tucks her keys in her pocket and turns, only to pause and spin.

“Lottie? What are you doing here?” Irene walks over to her, hands shoved in her pockets.

Charlotte breaks into a smile. “I came to see you of course.”

Irene frowns at her in a way that almost looks like a pout. “You’re going to catch a cold out here. Come inside.” She grabs Charlotte’s shoulder, and tugs her inside.

Charlotte doesn’t resist.

“You could have just let yourself in to the apartment, you know.” Irene huffs.

“I wanted to see the snowfall,” Charlotte says calmly. “It’s the first one of the new year, you know.”

“Is this why you always end up with a cold before the end of February?” Irene demands.

Charlotte laughs, following Irene up the stairs. Her apartment is on the third floor. They could take the elevator, but Irene likes to walk. And Charlotte likes to follow her. So up the stairs they go.

Irene’s keys jingle as she shoved open the door. She gestures Charlotte in first, and she takes the invitation, breathing in the faint smell of vanilla and honey from the candle on the coffee table. Irene turns a lamp on, and lights the candle too.

“Sit down,” she orders. “I’m going to make cocoa.”

Charlotte smiles to herself. Irene does so love to hover. It’s cute. And to think some people mistake the leather clad woman for being some kind of… hard-hearted tough gal. She almost laughs at the image. Irene is the softest heart Charlotte has ever known.

Irene returns with cocoa, and settled on the couch. “What brings you out at two in the morning?” Irene asks, as she hands her a cup.

It’s warm in Charlotte’s palms, but not scalding. The cup is white, with a chipped rose vine painted around the bottom and top of it. She sips it, and feels a marshmallow bump her lip. “I wanted to see you.”

Irene sighs. “You said that, Lottie. Are you having problems at the apartment again?”

“It’s lonely,” Charlotte says simply.  
“Well, jeez, Lottie. If you’d told me that before we could’a moved in together or somethin’!”

“I didn’t realize until recently.” That wasn’t strictly true. Charlotte knew a long time ago that she was lonely, and she wanted something more than strictly friendship from her best friend. But it wasn’t until recently that she had gained the confidence to act on it.

Not until an hour ago, actually.

Irene sighs. “We’ll figure out somethin’, Lottie.” She toys with the end of her braid, brown hair against olive skin.

“I’ve already figured it out,” Charlotte says. “That’s why I’m here.”

Irene pauses, mug touching her lip. Hers is blue, with chipped clouds painted on it. “You have?”

Charlotte hums the affirmative, and places her mug on the coffee table. Irene, watching her in confusion, copies the motion.

“So… what’s this plan of yours, then?”

Charlotte meets Irene’s eyes, the brown-gold swirl of them hypnotic. They’re red-rimmed with tiredness, and Charlotte feels guilty for keeping her awake—but she knows that if she waits, she’ll lose her courage.

“Can I kiss you?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper.

Irene’s eyes widen. “Can you— what?”

“I’d like to kiss you,” she repeats, louder. “Can I?”

A flush steals across Irene’s cheeks. It’s pretty. So is the way her mouth opens and closes.

Charlotte waits, head tilted so that her ponytail spills over her jacket. Her hands are clasped in her lap. Her coat and scarf are still on. So are her shoes. She doesn’t twist her scarf or her buttons in worry, though she wants to.

Instead, she sits there, the picture of patience.

Irene averts her eyes. “I mean… I guess. If you want to.” Her eyes dart up to Charlotte’s face, and then away again. The flush deepens.

Charlotte smiles. Adorable.

She learns forward, lifting out of her seat to press her mouth against Irene’s. Irene tilts her head back, her lips pliant against Charlotte’s. She opens her mouth, and Charlotte sighs into it, her hands coming to rest on either side of Irene’s lap. Irene lifts her hands, one coming against Charlotte’s face; the other tangling in her scarf.

It’s perfect.

It’s warm, and sweet, and gentle. The candle smells like honey and vanilla and there’s cocoa on their tongues. Charlotte is warm and snug inside her jacket and there’s a hand pressed to her face.

It’s everything she was missing. It’s everything she wanted. It’s everything she hoped it would be. It is, simply, everything.

When the kiss breaks, Charlotte smiles. It’s soft and open, and she hold’s Irene’s eyes despite the other woman’s embarrassment. “Thank you,” she breathes.

“I oughta be the one thanking you,” Irene mutters, averting her eyes. A smile tugs at her lips, only to replaced by a gasp of surprise when Charlotte sits in her lap.

Irene’s eyes flick back up to her.

“I’m going to kiss you until you stop blushing,” Charlotte informs her, and Irene bites her lip.

“Okay.”

Charlotte grins, and leans forward to kiss her again.


End file.
